


Feeding Part 2

by QueerCannibal



Series: Hannigram Kink Collection [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: After Series Finale, Anal Sex, Asexual, Asexuality, Blow Jobs, Bottom Hannibal, Cannibalism, Cooking, Feeding, Food Kink, Hand Jobs, Hannibal Loves Will, Hannibal is a Cannibal, M/M, Murder Husbands, No Blood, No Gore, Stuffing, Top Will Graham, Will Loves Hannibal, no killing, non-repulsed asexual, non-repulsed asexual Hannibal, non-repulsed asexual Will, reverse cowboy, the food is people, the meat is people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 12:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10218308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerCannibal/pseuds/QueerCannibal
Summary: Hannibal has been planning to let Will feed him, but is a bit dismayed by the thought of what Will might make him to eat. Regardless, Hannibal is a man of his word, and will do anything to make his husband happy. Will understands what Hannibal get's out of watching him eat, but wonders what he'll get out of watching Hannibal eat; probably something beautiful.





	

Hannigram one-shot(s)

Dedicated to: Ashley

Thanks goes to: kitsunegirl911 for suggesting we see Hannibal’s feeding. (:

One: Feeding/Stuffing/Food

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When Hannibal entered the kitchen it was to find Will already fully dressed and obviously intent on spending the morning and possibly the afternoon fishing. Hannibal could discern from the smell of the kitchen that Will had merely made himself a piece of toast and a cup of the dreadful instant coffee that Hannibal hated.

            “Coffee’s brewing, and the dogs are out so they shouldn’t bother you while I’m gone.” Will said in lieu of a good morning greeting. “Also I put _your_ coffee on, so don’t worry; it isn’t any of that instant stuff.”

            “You could have woken me,” Hannibal said as he stepped up to the island counter where his husband was seated, “I would have made you breakfast.”

            “Nah, I’m fine with just toast.”

            “You are going to be out all day; you’ll need your strength.” Hannibal insisted causing Will to grin.

            “Now as I recall, today is about you, not me.” Will teased, and Hannibal shifted a little defensively where he stood, hands resting on the counter top.

            “Regardless you could have woken me up.”

            “But you looked so peaceful. Besides, it isn’t very often that I get to watch you sleep, you’re such a goddamn early riser.” Will teased sliding from the bar stool and rummaging in his pockets. “Oh by the way, I have a shopping list for you.”

            “Oh? I was not aware that we were in need of groceries.”

            “We are for today.” Will stated, pulling a slightly crumbled piece of paper out of the breast pocket of his blue plaid shirt and passing it over to Hannibal who unfolded it and looked it over. Will studied the taller man’s face as he read the list and couldn’t help but smile at the dawning look of distaste settling there.

            “Will…”

            “I’m going to need all of that if I’m going to be cooking you dinner tonight.” Will stated planting a hand on his husband’s ass and internally glorying in the slightly startled jerk he’d received as he exited the kitchen and headed for the door.

            “Will.” He grinned as Hannibal followed quickly after him, only offering the older man half his attention as he grabbed his coat from the tree in the corner. Hannibal sighed and helped him get the coat on as well as fetching his tackle box from the closet by the door. “Will,” Hannibal held up the list, “you cannot expect me to eat this.” Will opened his mouth to argue and Hannibal raised his other hand in defense, head slightly bowed, though less in attempt to placate his husband and more out of sheer disgust Will was sure. “I know that I agreed to this, and I am not backing out of that agreement but—”

            “You’re very careful with what you put into your body, I know.” Will said with a sigh and a small smile as he reached forward and gently took the taller man’s shoulder. “That’s why I’m sending you shopping. You can be as picky as you’d like with quality of ingredients, but I do need all of them.”

            “Will…”

            “Now, now Hannibal.” Will said giving a slightly mocking pout as he stepped into his husband’s space, setting his tackle box down on the antique table that served no purpose in the hall besides holding a blue and gold flower vase which was currently barren of flowers; he could see the slight twitch at the corner of his husband’s eyes at that, but distracted him by gently cupping his face between his hands. “I promise it will be delicious. Again, please, be as picky as you’d like but in the end I will need either these ingredients or their equivalent.” He smiled. “I’ll be home around four.” And rising on the balls of his feet slightly Will planted a chaste kiss against his husband’s lips before turning and heading for the door. “See you.” He said over his shoulder before closing the door and leaving his husband in the hall.

            Hannibal stood in the hall for a long moment before looking back down at the list in disgust. The list called for the following ingredients: Tater tots, ground beef, canned sweet corn, mild cheddar cheese, and canned mushroom soup.

If being unable to imagine what these ingredients mixed together would taste like together weren’t enough to turn Hannibal off, the ability to imagine what these ingredients alone would taste like certainly was. Hannibal Lecter _hated_ processed foods. But, seeing as he’d promised that Will could cook for him Hannibal tucked the shopping list into his pocket with a sigh and moved back to the kitchen, intent on eating a light breakfast and having a cup of coffee before he left the house.

           

            After Hannibal had had his breakfast and cleaned his dishes, he dressed in a simple sweater and light coat before heading into town. Will and Hannibal lived thirty minutes out of the nearest inhabited area, and rarely ever went to town together; though that was Will’s idea not Hannibal’s. Will even two years after fleeing the U.S. remained paranoid that they’d be recognized, but Hannibal was less worried. This was a small town, and they never hunted near their home, giving Hannibal a sense of safety and control, something his husband had not quite warmed up to yet.

            While roaming through the grocery store Hannibal read and reread the shopping list his husband have given him several times; but no matter how many times he read over it the items on it in blue ink never sounded any more appetizing. Hannibal refused to buy canned foods, and instead ended up purchasing organic ears of corn, and mushrooms. He also elected to forego the frozen tater tots, gabbing a bag of assorted potatoes instead, as well as skipping the ground beef altogether. The cheese was perhaps the easiest thing to find and decide on, though Hannibal still picked the most expensive block available.

            Once home Hannibal decided he’d make Will’s job easier, and prep the food for cooking; after all, Will needed to be able to cook with the ingredients, and if Hannibal were to be perfectly honest with himself, his husband wasn’t the best of cooks when it came to cooking with fresh foods. So, Hannibal took the assorted potatoes and using a cheese grater grated them up into a bowl; if Will insisted they be in tot shape than Hannibal would cook them into tot shapes. He then cleaned, skinned, and diced the mushrooms, mixing them with a creamy broth he cooked up relatively quickly on the stove. He cut all of the kernels off of the corn and set them aside with the potatoes. He hesitated with the cheese for a little while before simply shredding that to. When it came to the meat he merely went to their basement freezer, where he kept all of their meats that they procured on their hunts, and ground it up and seasoned it himself. He elected not to go too overboard with the seasonings, not entirely sure what Will had in mind.

            Once everything was prepped Hannibal wandered around the kitchen pulling out any cooking tools that his husband might need. He fretted over how the prepped food was arranged, and kept pulling the salt and pepper from the shelf and putting it back again out of nerves. It was very unnerving to let someone—even Will—take control of his kitchen, and Hannibal wasn’t exactly sure he liked it.

            When four-o-clock rolled around Hannibal knew that Will had returned; he could hear the dogs barking and yipping outside. Straightening his shirt slightly he did his best to looking composed but he was feeling oddly uncomfortable. What if he didn’t like what Will cooked him? He mentally chastised himself knowing that that was a silly thing to worry about; so what if he didn’t like what Will cooked him? He would eat it regardless, because food should never go to waste, and Will was taking time out of his day to cook for him.

            “I’m back.”

Hannibal straightened up and felt the corner of his mouth twitch when the three dogs barreled passed the kitchen door; they were likely covered in mud and Hannibal swore if they tracked any of it into his study he would kill them—okay no, he wouldn’t, but Will wouldn’t be allowed to have them anymore—no okay no… Hannibal wasn’t exactly sure what he’d do, but it would certainly be horribly unpleasant for his husband.

            “And don’t worry about the dogs, I sent them straight to their beds, I’ll clean them up later.” Will said as he walked into the kitchen. He’d removed his fishing galoshes and coat, leaving him in his socked feet and plaid shirt; Hannibal could smell the outdoors on him, and couldn’t quite help how much he loved it. Will glanced over the island counter where all of the prepped food was set and smiled shaking his head. “You just can’t help yourself can you?”

            “It is not easy for me to give up my things Will, it is not in my nature to share.” Hannibal stated, and Will guffawed as he crossed to the sink, rolling up his sleeves and washing his hands.

            “Tell me about it.” Will chuckled, drying his hands on the dish towel. “Thank you, I appreciate the prep.” Will said crossing to the island. “Now let’s see, this all looks far too good to be canned.”

            “Canned food is disgusting Will.”

            “Sometimes it’s all people can afford Hannibal.” Will answered smoothly, utterly unbothered by the disdain in the older man’s voice.

            “More the pity.” Hannibal sighed, resting his hands on the island. “Are you going to tell me what you are going to be doing?”

            “Is there any chance I could just get you to go upstairs get ready for dinner and then wait in the dining room?”

            “No.”

            “Then, yes.” Will said with a nod. “I am going to be making a potato casserole.” He stated smiling glibly up at the slightly taller man. Hannibal blinked and glanced between the assorted ingredients and the other man.

            “Oh?”

            “Yes. A simple little casserole, which I assure you, you will like.” Will pulled a glass cooking pan towards him, and Hannibal on instinct handed him the butter. Will smiled and rubbed the stick along the sides and bottom. “I learned how to cook this by accident when I was thirteen.” Will said as he began gathering up the ingredients and dumping them into the pan.

Hannibal watched him closely as he put down a layer of the shaved potatoes, not making a comment about them at all, then the homemade mushroom soup, then the meat, corn, cheese and repeat until everything was used up. “I was home alone,” Will went on as he covered the top of the pan with tin foil, “and we barely had any food in the house, but we did have some tater tots with freezer burn, mushroom soup, and an old can of corn. Cooked it up, and it was surprisingly good. Later on I added meat and cheese, which only made it, better honestly.” Will crossed over to the oven and preheated it to 350.

            “Does it require no seasoning?” Hannibal asked, wondering if he should have just left the salt and pepper on the shelf. Will joined him at the island counter again.

            “We add that after.” Will said leaning his hip against the counter and crossing his arms with a small smile. “Thank you for letting me do this Hannibal, I know it makes you uncomfortable.”

            “I’m not uncomfortable Will; the idea of what we are doing doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”

            “I know, I meant letting me in your kitchen. I know how important this space is for you.”

Hannibal sighed and glanced away from his husband. They hadn’t shared everything, at least verbally, but Will had enough information to piece together parts of his husband’s past that he’d rather not talk about. Hannibal didn’t mind really, it was nice having someone who could see him, all of him, and still intended to stay; but Will was right, it wasn’t easy.

            “It is the least I can do for you Will.” Hannibal stated simply. “You asked to do this, and it is something that I can give you, so there was no reason to say no.”

            “I appreciate it Hannibal, I really, really do.” Will pushed off of the counter and rounded to press himself against the taller man, caging him in against the marble island. He let one hand loop around his husband’s surprisingly narrow waist and the other move down to rest over boney fingers. “I know how special this gift is, and I accept it Hannibal, enthusiastically.” He pressed a kiss against his husband’s shoulder blade before pressing his face against him instead.

            “How long does this casserole of yours take to cook Will?” Hannibal inquired lifting his head slightly, enjoying the feeling and heat of the other man pressed against his back. Will hummed thoughtfully, letting his hand rub circles against the taller man’s stomach.

            “An hour.” Will slid his other hand up his husband’s arm, resting on his shoulder. “Why, what do you have in mind?”

            “Nothing specific.” Hannibal said honestly. “Simply, I missed you today Will.”

            “I was only fishing.” Will mused.

            “Regardless. I miss you whenever I cannot look upon your face.”

Will couldn’t help but grin and chuckle, burring his face a little firmer between his husband’s shoulder blades.

            “Always hungry for me, huh?”

            “It is a constant pain that I am glad to endure.” Hannibal said with a gentle smile that he knew Will couldn’t see but could imagine.

            “You’re such a romantic sap, Hannibal.” Will sighed letting one hand slide down to his husband’s chest, and the other slide down to the front of his husband’s pants; Hannibal wasn’t hard, but still let out a soft puff of breath as Will petted between his legs. “Is this okay?” Will inquired. “Or would you rather wait until later?”

Hannibal shook his head.

            “This is fine.” Hannibal sighed, shifting in the smaller man’s embrace to spread his legs a little more and square his weight on his hands against the counter top.

            “Are you sure?” Will inquired, hand sinking further between lean muscular thighs to tease at the other man’s trapped balls. “I’d hate to ruin this, we’ve been planning.” He mumbled.

            It was true, they had been planning; neither of them had exactly been in the mood to test this new found thing where food was concerned the day after the ‘Chili incident’ as Will thought of it now. Will had been a little worried that Hannibal would be disappointed, but in true Hannibal fashion the older man went about as though everything were fine and normal, not bringing it up again until Will voiced his interests.

            Hannibal smiled to himself before glancing over his shoulder; all he could see was the top of his husband’s curls.

            “Don’t worry, _mylimasis_ , I won’t disappoint you.”

            “I’m more worried about you being disappointed.” Will mumbled still a little unsure even as he let his hand slide up to undo the fly of the black slacks. Hannibal slipped a hand from the counter and caught his husband’s, holding it gently in his own.

            “I’m never disappointed when I’m with you like this Will.” He said quietly. “Every time, _every time_ is a precious gift.”

Will felt a shiver run down his own spine and closed his eyes with an airy sigh, pressing his face back between his husband’s shoulder blades.

            “I want to touch you.” He whined.

            “Then touch me.” Hannibal released his hand and Will let it sink into the warm confines of his husband’s pants, palming and rubbing at the steadily stiffening organ; Will let out a soft moan as he freed the other man’s cock, tugging it gently to encourage it to harden further.

            “I don’t know what it is,” Will sighed. “I’m not even feeling particularly randy right now, but… God I just want to feel you.” He gripped the hardened length in his palm, feeling the slight throb against his finger tips and practically salivated. “It happens like that sometimes,” he panted, feeling slightly light headed as he jerked and tugged at his husband’s cock, “I’ll just look at you, whether you’re drawing, reading, cooking, anything, and I don’t know, I just… I just have this overwhelming need to feel you.”

            “Perhaps it is your way of coping?” Hannibal offered his own voice a little tight as he held onto the counter top and permitted himself to be held there. “Your mind turning your aggression towards me into something else.”

            “Do you think?”

            “It’s a lovely thought.”

            “I don’t want to kill you anymore Hannibal,” Will felt a drop of precum gather at the head of the other man’s cock and swiped at it with his thumb, “I can’t imagine ever living without you, the mere thought of anything ever happening to you—”

            “Shhhh, I’m not going anywhere.” Hannibal assured. “Will?”

            “Yeah?”

            “May I turn around?” There was a moment of silence, of hesitation, where Will’s fingers stuttered along his shaft.

            “No.” Came the quiet almost tentative response. “No… I… I like this, this is nice, this is warm….”

            “I’m concerned Will,” Hannibal managed, accent thickening, “concerned that you might be dissociating.”

            “I’m not, I’m not.” Will assured quickly, his free hand sliding back to grip at the other man’s, fingers sliding between knuckles and curling against warm palms. “I promise. I’m still here. I just… you feel good like this…” Will gave a twist of his hand and drew a soft grunt from the man trapped against him. “Do… do you want me to stop? I will….”

            “No. Please continue.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “Yes, Will, I’m sure.” Hannibal sighed and let his eyes slide closed, canting his hips a little to buck shallowly against the other man’s hand. “Is this acceptable?”

            “Oh God yes.” Will sighed, practically draping himself against the taller man’s back, his hand still working jerkily.

            Will let his eyes drift closed as he rested his face between the taller man’s broad shoulders, letting the ever rising body heat seep into his own body, warming him and chasing away the chill he hadn’t quite realized he had. He let his hand work on auto pilot, tugging, pulling, stroking in random patterns and rhythms, instead focusing on the taller man’s panting; Hannibal wasn’t always the loudest of sexual partners, in fact sometimes he was so quiet Will wondered if he were present for any of it at all. It had taken him awhile to realize that it wasn’t so much Hannibal checking out while sexual acts went on, but rather Hannibal cataloging the experience; sometimes it made Will wonder if the other man was comparing events to past experiences.

            Will opened his eyes when he felt the other man shift against him slightly, lifting his cheek from the warm material of his husband’s sweater and blinking till his gaze refocused.

            “You okay?”

            “Yes,” Hannibal sighed thickly, shifting the remaining bowls and cooking things from the counter top before lowering himself onto his elbows, “It’ll be easier for me to hold you up like this.” He managed, accent thick and wet sounding. Will smiled and draped himself over the taller man again, letting more of his weight press down against him.

            “How thoughtful.” He purred, slowing his stroking of his husband’s length and fondling the foreskin, ruddy and wet from the precum that was leaking more and more readily; Will wondered if any of it had dribbled down onto the kitchen tiles—the thought alone made him grin against the warm material of the other man’s sweater. It was all so inappropriate, fooling around in the kitchen, so unsanitary; it was a wonder Hannibal was permitting it at all, but Will wasn’t one to question the unspoken gifts the other man gave him, not anymore.

            “Hannibal?” Will asked quietly, eyes half lidded as he let his fingers wrap a little firmer around the other man, starting up his stroking motion again. A soft grunt was the only response he got, but it was good enough. “Do you know what I was thinking about while I was out standing in the middle of that stream?”

            “Tell me, Will.”

            “I was thinking about you, in the kitchen, back in Baltimore.” Will curled his hips against the warm curve of the taller man’s ass, wanting nothing more than to absorb as much of the man’s warmth as he could “All those meals you prepared, the time you spent, the care you put into each dish. I don’t think I’ve ever known another human being who ever put that much effort into anything.”

Will let his other hand slide back along the man’s arm then down his side to press tenderly to his side; he made a quiet shushing noise when the taller man flinched slightly. “And it isn’t just your cooking that you put your everything into Hannibal, it is literally every aspect of your life. Your art, the opera, travel, fashion, everything you do you do so carefully and completely. But I’ve noticed something.”

            “What have you noticed, ah, Will?”

            “You relax around me.” Will let his free arm loop around the other man’s narrow waist, holding him and feeling every tremble and shiver as he pulled the older man over the edge; Hannibal’s finish was quiet, merely a soft gasp and groan as he spilled against his husband’s hand and onto the side of the island counter. “It wasn’t as drastic back then, back in Baltimore, but even when we were playing cat and mouse, you were letting yourself relax. Did you want to be caught, Hannibal?” Will frowned, the thought alone seemed silly. “Did you want me to catch you?”

            “In the moment, I cannot say what I wanted, dear Will.” Hannibal panted, remaining where he was leaned over the counter, not wanting to disturb the younger man against his back. “I was curious about you. You were unlike anyone I’d ever met. But now, now I simply wish to share in your life.”

            “That’s dangerous Hannibal.” Will mused. “You know that, don’t you? Letting someone get close, letting someone see you.”

            “I know.”

            Will straightened up, taking a step back from the other man to let him right himself. He cleaned his hand off on a paper towel before tossing it in the trash. He watched as the other man straightened and cleaned himself up, but stopped him when he went to clean up the mess they’d made together.

            “Leave it.”

            “Will.” Hannibal made a face and Will smiled.

            “I’ll clean it up later, but right now you should go get ready for dinner.” Will merely smiled at the uncertain look the taller man gave him, and could help how endearing he found it.

            “Will, are you testing me?”

            “Maybe a little.”

            “For what?”

            “Let’s just say, I’m curious too.” Will took the other man’s hand in his own and gave it a squeeze. “It’s nothing sinister I promise. I’m just… exploring you a little, in my mind.”

            “Will, you know you only have to ask—”

            “I know, I know. But… if I were to ask, there would be a small part of you that would want to lie.”

            “I never lie, Will.”

            “Alright, than omit. A small part of you,” he pressed his free hand against the taller man’s chest, feeling the steady bump-bump of his heart beat, “would want to omit certain truths. I know not out of shame, and maybe not even out of fear, but I want those truths, and so I’m testing.”

Hannibal tilted his head, lips quirking up ever so slightly.

            “My dear Will, are you fishing?”

Will grinned, flashing his teeth.

            “Yes I am. Fishing for the most important catch of them all.”

            “As dear as you are to me, and as much as I love you,” Hannibal said stepping into the smaller man’s space and gently cupping his chin, “you know that I will not be caught without a fight.”

            “I know. You wouldn’t be interesting if you didn’t fight back.”

Hannibal stepped back and straightened his pants a little.

            “Very well Will, I will let you fish. I will admit that I am just as curious about your methods as you are about my secrets. I will go get ready for dinner.” He gave a slight sniff as he headed for the kitchen door. “The fragrance of your dish isn’t at all unpleasant.” He mused with a small smile over his shoulder as he exited the kitchen. Will felt warmth spread through his chest at the small praise and couldn’t help but beam to himself.

\--

            When dinner was finally ready, Hannibal—freshly cleaned and dressed—sat in the dining room patiently. The smell that came from the kitchen was not unpleasant, and made Hannibal visualize small country homes with average country families and warm comfortable feelings. Of course Hannibal knew that that was not Will experience at all; the birth of this dish came from loneliness, and desperation. Will had not had a very happy childhood, and it made part of Hannibal squirm and hiss inside. Will deserved to be kept warm and happy; he should never want for anything, whether it was clothes, food, or the companionship of pets.

            “You okay?” Will asked caring in two empty bowls and silverware. Hannibal blinked. “You were making a face.” Will stated setting the dishes down on the table; Will had set his own place kiddy-corner to Hannibal’s rather than across from his.

            “I am fine Will, merely lost in thought.”

            “You know Hannibal, if you really don’t end up liking it you don’t have to eat it.”

Hannibal clicked his tongue at the back of his throat and gave Will a cross look.

            “Will, you took the time to prepare this meal, I intend to eat it.”

            Will couldn’t help but smile as he held the back of his own chair, and Hannibal mirrored it from his own seat.

            “Okay. Stubborn.”

            “Unapologetically stubborn.” Hannibal admitted with a chuckle as Will left the dining room to fetch the food.

            It was a gooey casserole, the cheese having been baked into layers. Will served them both hearty helpings, and Hannibal watched as Will prepared his own serving; Will added a generous amount of salt and pepper.

            Hannibal made no comment of presentation, knowing that such artistry was more his style than Will’s, and carefully took a forkful of the gooey mess. The sultry smells of meat and cheese made Hannibal’s mouth water as he studied the smell before eating his mouthful. The taste was nothing special, but it also was not bad; Hannibal could understand the appeal of this comfort food, and could imagine Will eating it as often as possible.

He chewed carefully, savoring the flavors before swallowing when he noticed Will looking over at him chewing on his own mouthful nervously. Hannibal offered a small smile.

            “It’s good.”

This small praise brought a beaming smile of pure joy to his husband’s face that Hannibal promised himself to eat every last bite no matter how much Will gave him. He’d eat the whole damn pan if it would make the other man smile at him like that.

            They ate their first helpings in relative silence, something that didn’t bother either of them; Will was busy enjoying the fruits of his labor, and Hannibal was busy savoring each flavor and trying to picture a happier childhood for his husband.

            Once Hannibal did finish his bowl he set his utensils aside and said with his hands on his thighs, looking towards his husband expectantly and finding a feint blush marring his cheeks and a sparkle of uncertainty behind blue eyes.

            “Are you sure about this?”

            “Of course.”

            “You’d tell me if you needed to stop wouldn’t you?” Will asked as he stood and piled more food into their bowls, giving Hannibal a noticeably bigger portion. The lack of response had Will hesitating and glancing over at the older man. “Hannibal.”

            “The likelihood of me needing to inform you that we should stop is low, Will. But should the need arise, yes, I will tell you.”

            “Thank you.” Will said with a sighed setting Hannibal’s bowl back down in front of him, and reclaiming his chair. “I would really hate to make you sick.” He admitted quietly, more to himself than to Hannibal.

            Once Will had finished his second helping, he pushed his bowl aside and turned to Hannibal, who acknowledged him with a look as he finished off his own bowl. While Will refilled the bowl, with an even greater serving of food, Hannibal pondered the dish; it was a heavy meal, though perhaps not as heavy as the chili he’d made for Will several weeks ago, but unlike the chili Hannibal felt that eating more and more of this dish was almost a compulsion. He’d seen Will’s own hand stray towards the serving spoon before pushing his own bowl aside; obviously this was a food that would be easy to gorge oneself on.

            Hannibal ate in silence, and Will watched. He knew now what his husband had gotten out of feeding him, though perhaps not the entire picture; Will wouldn’t get the same thing out of it, but perhaps he’d learn more about the older man if he observed him. For instants, Hannibal ate slowly, carefully loading his fork with a portioned mouthful and then chewing each bite slowly, carefully—Will could imagine that he was focusing on the flavors of the dish he was eating—and when he swallowed he took a heartbeat of time to savor before doing it all over again.

Will studied the older man’s face, who didn’t seem bothered at all by being studied, and could almost read the mental process behind his husband’s actions. Not only did Hannibal savor and catalog each bite of his meal, but he seemed almost entirely enraptured by it, as though each bite were a new experience unto itself, and that he was quite blessed to be experiencing it.

There was almost a look of devout prayer reflected in the subtle lines and scars of his face, the curve of his bowed lips; and when he paused, setting his fork aside to pick up his drink—they’d forgone the wine instead for the home brewed beer that Hannibal made—his eyes would drift closed as he cleansed his pallet with the honeyed beer.

            When Will prepared the fourth bowl he caught Hannibal un-tucking his shirt out of the corner of his eye, but it was the only sign of fullness that Hannibal had given; and when Hannibal ate through the fourth bowl, and got halfway through the fifth, Will was beginning to wonder if Hannibal really would tell him when they needed to stop.

            Once the fifth bowl of casserole was finished Hannibal sat back in his chair and sighed through his nose, eyes closed. Will hesitantly took the empty bowl, hovering and wondering if he should refill it—if he did, the entire casserole would be gone.

            “Do, do you think you can finish this off?” He inquired quietly, spooning the last of the cooling casserole into the bowl. When he glanced back at the older man Hannibal was smiling at him and Will felt his ears flush again at the look of contented devotion reflected back at him.

            “For you Will I can do anything.” Hannibal straightened up again as Will slid his bowl back in front of him. His stomach bubbled uncomfortably, and he knew that he’d eaten well past his limits, but it was the last bowl, and he elected to ignore his discomfort as he always did; after all, there was no need to make his already uncomfortable husband feel bad. “Though I will state that I am glad you did not plan a dessert.” Hannibal said as he carefully balanced a mouthful on his fork. Will felt a nervous smile tug at the corner of his mouth; he knew that Hannibal had to be overly full, there was a feint sheen of sweat on his brow, and a slight blush in his cheeks that spoke of a warm core.

            “Do you know how beautiful you look when you eat?”

            “I have never given it much thought.” Hannibal admitted taking his mouthful and chewing it carefully; Will had noted as Hannibal got fuller and fuller that his eating slowed, though the expression on his face never changed.

            “Well you do. I don’t think I’d ever really noticed before. I think I was always too busy being swept up in the presentation and artistry of your meals to notice.” Will couldn’t contain his smile, thinking back on all the meals his husband had prepared for him. “But you really are quite beautiful, when you eat, it’s as if you’ve seen the face of God, and in that moment, God is looking back on you.”

            “Food is life, in a way you are not wrong.” Hannibal said with a nod as he finished off the last of his beer. Will was half tempted to refill the glass, but decided not to; he really didn’t want to make Hannibal sick.

            “You’ve said before that God enjoys his power and cruelty, but your devotion to him has never faltered. So why, in the moments when you eat do you turn yourself to God as though in prayer? Do you pray Hannibal?”

            Hannibal seemed to ponder the questions while he chewed, though Will wasn’t foolish enough to know that he already had his answers ready.

            “I have always accepted that God exists, just as I exist. Do I think that God turns his eyes on me individually? No, I do not think that God pays us any individual attention. However that does not mean that one can ignore God.” Hannibal loaded the last of his food onto his fork, looking at it thoughtfully. “Food is precious, food is life, you put it in your belly and you live. God created life, whether for good or for bad he cares not, but when I partake in that life, I believe it only polite to thank the one who created it in the first place.”

Will watched as he at the last bite, eyes falling closed and a long sigh escaping through his nose; no doubt part of him was glad to be done with the meal. Will couldn’t believe he’d eaten as much as he had. He’d expected Hannibal to turn down the food after the fourth bowl, but now he realized that he should have known better. Hannibal Lecter did not waste food.

            “You didn’t answer my last question. Do you pray Hannibal?”

Hannibal turned dark honey colored eyes towards the younger man, leaning back in his chair to relieve the pressure on his stomach.

            “On occasion I find myself praying, but I expect no answer.”

Will stood from his seat, and came to stand by the older man, looking down into the face he’d memorized early on.

            “Have none of your prayers been answered Hannibal?” Will inquired, gently running his fingers through gray-blonde hair. Hannibal let his eyes fall closed again, enjoying the scratching at his scalp.

            “It would be a lie to say no.” He hummed before opening his eyes, and Will felt his chest constrict at the look of love he saw there. “I prayed for you to see me, and to accept me, and here you are.”

            “Here I am.” Will felt a sad smile curl his lips; he’d prayed to, prayed for terrible things—but he was glad to find that it seemed God had ignored him to instead answer one of Hannibal’s own prayers.

            “Here you are.”

            “Let’s go upstairs Hannibal. I’m finding that my appetite is coming back.” Will said taking the older man’s hand. Hannibal stood from the table and gave it a glance, and Will couldn’t help the wolfish grin that came over him at the look of discomfort on his husband’s face. “Leave it.”

            “Will…”

            “I’ll clean it up later, don’t worry.” He assured. Hannibal clicked his teeth but made no argument and permitted himself to be lead out of the dining room and towards the staircase.

\---

            Once upstairs, Will closed the bedroom door behind them; it was more a personal habit than anything, the dogs knew better than to enter the bedroom—one of Hannibal’s stipulations. Turning back to his husband Will was on him immediately, pressed against his warmth, one hand in his hair, the other working at the front of his pants.

            “Your dinner was wonderful, thank you Will.” Hannibal sighed, leaning his head down to gently press warm kisses against Will’s temple and the long scar across the right side of his forehead. Will felt the heat in his gut spark a little hotter as he managed to get the front of his husband’s trousers undone, letting his hand slide in without invitation.

            “Is this going to be okay?” Will asked, sliding the front of Hannibal’s boxers down enough so that he could freely fondle his cock; his own dick was filling out hard against his zipper, interest having finally piqued towards the end of their meal. “I’d understand if you’re too tired, or full.” Will assured; yeah, he’d understand, though his dick gave a slight disheartened throb in his pants.

            “Whatever you want Will will be fine,” Hannibal assured, accent thick, breathing already labored, “though I may need some encouraging.” He admitted, and Will couldn’t help but smile; he didn’t mind encouraging his husband whenever it was needed.

            “I can certainly do that.” Will said pressing a kiss to Hannibal’s lips as he fondled the sluggish organ. “Finish taking off your clothes and get on the bed.” Will sighed against the bow of the other’s lips before stepping back and undoing the buttons of his plaid shirt.

            Hannibal did as he was told, dropping pants and boxers and kicking them aside; he’d purposefully worn his more casual clothes knowing that he would likely not have the time or energy to properly fold them and set them aside—it still gave his heart a little pang to see them crumpled on the floor though.

            Once Will had finished stripping himself of his own clothes it was to find Hannibal already on the bed, seated with his legs stretched before him, long lean, and perfectly limber, and his back pressed against the headboard. Will felt his mouth water as he climbed onto the bed as well, running a hand along the curve of a delicate bony foot and up the lightly furred shin; he gave Hannibal’s knee a squeeze, enjoying the slight twitch of muscles when he did and then gripped a lean muscular thigh.

            Hannibal was a sight to see, and Will loved drinking it in. Hannibal was in incredible shape for a man nearing fifty; yes he’d softened up a bit over the course of his three year confinement, but that didn’t change the fact that he was still lean and muscular. Will could never help the thought that Hannibal looked utterly small when he wasn’t dressed in a three piece suit.

            “Is it okay if I suck you?” Will asked, his cheeks burning  as he forced the words past his teeth; his eyes were lowered to look at the star shaped scar tissue marring the right side of his husband’s lean abdomen; it was jagged and pink, and Will felt momentary heart ache and self loathing at not being better at stitchery.

            “Yes.” Hannibal gently pressed their foreheads together, no doubt guessing Will’s thoughts and wanting to distract him from them. “I would enjoy that very much.” Hannibal assured, pressing a gentle kiss to Will’s nose, his hand running through dark curls.

            Will pressed a kiss to the scar, and gently peppered them down along the thin gray trail of hair that lined his husband’s taught and slightly protruding stomach. Hannibal hadn’t hardened much yet, though his dick did give an interested twitch when Will took it in hand.

            Hannibal let out a sigh when Will took him into his mouth, sucking gently but encouragingly. He let his head rest against the headboard as Will worked between his thighs, fully immersing himself in the enjoyment he felt at the act; he knew Will wasn’t a fan of giving filatio, nor was he entirely gifted at it, but Hannibal could appreciate the enthusiasm when the job was offered; he certainly found it erotic whenever any part of him was in Will, even temporarily. Filatio was perhaps the closest they’d ever get to properly consuming each other; a thought which was enough to get the fire going in Hannibal’s gut.

            Will let out a pleased hum when his husband’s sex began to respond how he wanted it to; it wasn’t too often that Hannibal had trouble getting it up; after all Hannibal rarely experienced stress living each day of his life content in his own existence—and usually only had trouble when he was overly exhausted or he’d had too much to drink. Today’s sluggishness Will knew could be put down to the fact that Hannibal was overly full, and he’d gotten off once already. But Will never would have held it against him, Hannibal wasn’t young, and when the mood wasn’t right, the mood wasn’t right; although he was extremely happy that it seemed the mood was right.

            Once Hannibal was fully erect Will released him with a sloppy popping sound that had Hannibal clicking his teeth at him. Will merely grinned, knowing that Hannibal found the sound rude.

            “I want you inside of me.” Will sighed leaning back on his own knees and stroking his own hardened cock. “But if you’re to full—”

            “Perhaps I could manage the reverse cowboy position.”

Will let out a stuttering laugh, hand still on his own sex as his blush spread from his sternum all the way up his face.

            “Oh God, you’ve looked up the terms.”

            “Best to know them, sometimes it just won’t do to manhandle you into position.” Hannibal stated, shifting down on the bed so that he could lay on his back. “Do you want me to prepare you?”

            “No, I don’t want prep, just lube.” Will stated, releasing himself and leaning over Hannibal and the side of the bed to fetch the bottle of expensive lube from the night stand drawer.

            “It will hurt.” Hannibal stated.

            “Not too badly, I’ll go slowly. Besides, it’s not the first time I’ve had something shoved up my ass without preparation.” Will said with a grin slicking up his husband’s rigid flesh before tossing the lube bottle aside.

            “Do not blame me if you tear something.” Hannibal sighed, voice terse and almost sounding grumpy, but Will only felt elated as he turned his back to the older man and straddled his hips.

            “I won’t.” Will assured with nothing but humor in his own voice as he took his husband’s length in one hand and aligned it between his cheeks. He hovered awkwardly, turning to look over his shoulder, thighs trembling at holding himself up. “I don’t want to press on your stomach.” He stated looking for a place to brace himself; Hannibal helpfully offered a hand, which Will took and then immediately began lowering himself.

            Hannibal hissed between his teeth as Will sank down—probably faster than he ought to—onto his cock, bottoming out with a loud gasping moan; the muscles gripped and squeezed in protest, and Hannibal had to close his eyes against the urge to buck; not only would it be impolite but likely unwise due to the churning in his stomach.

            “Oh fuck,” Will gasped, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he nibbled on his own lip. The burn was pleasant, and the feeling of being utterly stuffed made his stomach coil and twist with pleasure; his dick throbbed and a drop of pre-cum dropped to the bedspread with a ‘plipping’ sound. “Oh how I’ve been craving this.”

            “All you had to do was ask.” Hannibal managed thickly from behind him, and Will chuckled, opening his eyes.  
            “I wanted to save it for tonight. I guess I wanted to feel just as stuffed as you would after feeding you. Though, admittedly I think I’m enjoying this more.”

            “I wouldn’t say that,” Hannibal panted. “You feel exquisite around me, and I have a rather lovely view.”

            “And I’m not hurting you at all?” Will inquired glancing over his shoulder as best he could.

            “Not at all, though I would suggest you take care with your thrusts, I can’t help much in my current condition.”

Will beamed and pulled himself up, still holding onto Hannibal’s hand for support as well as digging his nails into his own thigh; he lifted off until he could feel just the head teasing the rim of his ass; oh the burn made his toes curl and his jaw clench.

            “I won’t last long, not raw like this.”

            “My dear, there is no need to fight your pleasure,” Hannibal panted, glancing down to where their bodies connected and feeling a full bodied flush of heat wash over him. “I doubt I’ll last long myself after our tryst in the kitchen.”

With a sigh and a grunt Will slid sharply back down on his husband’s length, falling into a quick short pattern, ever mindful of his balance. His cock bobbed and bounced with each thrust, smacking himself in the stomach as he fucked himself raw. Waves of heat and pleasure swept over him, and he could feel his balls tightening already; the burn in his ass made him clench his jaw, teeth exposed as his lips drew back in a silent hiss, and tears prickling at the corner of his eyes—not tears of pain, oh no Will loved the burn, but rather tears of pure joy and elation of being here in the moment with his husband. Sometimes Will got weepy when they fucked, more often when they made love, but tonight Will couldn’t quite help the overwhelming emotions that assaulted him; Hannibal gave him so much, so much trust, and looked on him with nothing but love and devotion, and a part of Will couldn’t quite believe that he deserved it.

            “Mano meilė... ”  The gentle words of endearment that Will recognized for what they were even if he didn‘t understand the language went straight through him, and he forced him to clench his eyes closed against the room, leaving him open to feel the pull and push, the burn in his gut and in his ass.  “Mano grožis.”

            “Fuck.” Will let out a strangled gasp as he released his own thigh and wrapped his fingers around his own bobbing length, tugging at it rapidly with growing desperation; it only took a few tugs before the coil in his gut snapped like a rubber band and he was cumming in long spurts against the bedspread. His loud gasping moans and cut off curses drew soft rumbling sounds from the man beneath him, and if Will had been in the right mind to imagine it, he would have known that Hannibal was looking at him with nothing but devotion and love—and perhaps  a bit of hunger.

            “Fuck,” Will gasped releasing his own cock and sitting his full weight atop his husband’s cock, which was still hard and throbbing in his quivering ass. He gasped and swallowed thickly, lips dry and throat feeling boggy. With a weak sound Will wiped his spend on his thigh before lifting off the other man’s sex, drawing a hiss from Hannibal and a whine from himself.

Turning around, feeling sore but happy, Will watched as Hannibal jerked his own cock in his hand expertly. Will’s deflating sex twitched and his gut turned pleasantly at the sight, watching as his husband’s long fingers worked his red and ruddy cock.

Will always enjoyed whenever he could see Hannibal jerk himself off, it felt wrong and perverse, as though they hadn’t just been fucking or killing, or any other un-savory thing they could be doing; no, for some reason the act of masturbation always seemed beneath Hannibal in Will’s mind, and even knowing that it wasn’t didn’t take away the perverse pleasure Will got from watching it happen.

            “Mylimasis—”

            “God I love you.” Will panted, and with a grunt and a gasp Hannibal came against his own stomach. His orgasm didn’t last all that long, and soon he laid perfectly still against the mattress catching his breath. Will laid down next to him and sighed, slinging an arm over his chest.

            “Will… Will.”

            “Hmn?”

            “Don’t get to comfortable, you said you’d clean up downstairs.” Hannibal’s accent remained thick, the words rolling almost clumsily over his tongue. Will hummed.

            “I’ll do it tomorrow.” There was a pause and a moment of silence before he felt Hannibal roll away from him, his arm hitting the mattress with a thud. Will opened his eyes and looked up at the older man who’d stood—shakily—from the bed and was grabbing his red stripped pajama pants from the drawer.

            “Where are you going?”

            “To clean the kitchen.” Hannibal stated as he pulled on the pants and headed for the bedroom door. Will watched him go and couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all; but he was pleased, the day had been a pleasant one, and the evening with Hannibal had been better than he’d hoped—even if his husband couldn’t leave a dirty kitchen alone for an evening.

**Author's Note:**

> FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PREPARE YOURSELF BEFORE ANAL SEX! Or at least use lube. And go slow. No prep = GO SLOW!  
> Also use a condom! It's only okay for them cause they're fictional, and have been together for awhile now and likely get tested regularly.


End file.
